We get it, women of New York, your black leather jacket with overtly open zipper and slightly askew collar ensures everyone in the bar knows you are not to be fucked with. You are not the type of girl who owns a record player. You don't pose for pictures. None of your candles are scented. You wait at least two drinks before discreetly referencing the time you got mugged on the way to a friend's art gallery opening and still made it on time. You only eat at restaurants with less than forty Yelp reviews. You won't even visit your roommate from college in Astoria because there's a rumor it might be getting a Whole Foods. You have a tattoo that shows your disdain for Bluetooth devices. You only hang out with your close friends because it's impossible to have an intelligent conversation with anyone else. You call people pussies. And cunts.

Did that girl just call that dude a cunt because he still listens to Dirty Projectors?
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Yeah, I heard that too.
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I think it was the girl in the disheveled black leather jacket who is clearly not to be fucked with.​